


Mind

by Bazylia_de_Grean



Series: Adra Bán [16]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Gen, PoE Inktober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 04:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18423084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazylia_de_Grean/pseuds/Bazylia_de_Grean
Summary: The boy is clearly gifted; his talent shines brightly like a star. But usually, it is possible to trace where a star fell from.(Reincarnated Thaos being admitted to Dunryd Row for training.)





	Mind

**Author's Note:**

> (PoE inktober, prompt 24: Mind)

Surprising Islwyn is a difficult challenge, but Adhán manages to do so during their very first meeting. They talk, of course; the way the boy speaks about his mother and home does provide a lot of insight. But there is another test obligatory for any potential Dunryd Row ciphers: a mind reading.

The boy knows that, and although his reluctance is almost palpable, he does open his thoughts, wanting to prove he has nothing to hide. Islwyn looks, for a long time – Adhán seems patient, for a twelve-year old human child, but eventually he starts fidgeting in his chair, and a shadow of fear clouds his eyes. Understandable; it is his future at stake here.

Finally, Iswyn slowly nods his head in a curt gesture of approval. The boy sighs in relief – a long, shuddering exhale as he lets the nervousness out. He does not smile, but the somewhat timid glance he gives his mentor-to-be is hopeful.

“Baines is waiting outside; he will show you to your room.” Islwyn sends a thought, and the door opens, revealing a red-headed young man, only a few years older than the new apprentice. “Rest. Tomorrow, the real tests will start.”

The boy nods, not intimidated in the least. “And when will they end?”

“Never.” Islwyn smiles briefly, spreading his arms. “Welcome to life, Adhán Teàrlach.”

Adhán still feels too unsure to laugh, but he grins. “Goodnight, master Islwyn.”

The orlan looks at Baines. “Ah, those rare, brief moment when my apprentices do not call me names behind my back…”

They all laugh, and then the boys leaves his office, closing the door, careful to do it quietly. As soon as they leave, Islwyn starts pacing.

During his career as a cipher, he has seen many things and many hedge ciphers – village healers and outcasts and wanderers and clever swindlers. Never something like today, though.

The boy is clearly gifted; his talent shines brightly like a star. But usually, it is possible to trace where a star fell from. Not with Adhán. It is as if his soul has never existed before; which could be true, technically, but even souls formed from an amalgam of tiny scraps of essence do carry traces of memories, inaccessible as those may be to the owner. Besides, such a soul could never have so much power. Indeed, such power is a rarity, and requires certain conditions.

He had seen it in Lady Webb, his mentor. He has seen it in Lady Eidis. A talent like that requires a strong soul, a soul that has remained whole for lifetimes, losing only tiny bits of essence as it passed through the Wheel and back.

Adhán’s soul seems to be a clear tablet, an old vessel that has never been used. A book with countless pages, all of which are blank. That is most certainly _not_ a natural phenomenon.

For the first time in his life, Islwyn contemplates destroying a soul, murdering a boy who is barely more than a child. He will not, of course; his concept of morality has been usefully broadened by both his time among the Tribes and years spent in Dunryd Row, but there are lines he will never cross because he has drawn them himself. That is why he will not, even if he once vowed he would. But he swore vengeance against a man, not a soul – ah, what a regrettable oversight – and even though the timing and the circumstances do fit, and he is _certain_ , there is no proof, and he cannot.

Besides, if that is indeed the case, it was not his choice, and the consequences should not be his either. For the first time ever since leaving Eir Glanfath, he finds himself inclined to agree with Woedica. Sometimes, justice must be served. He owes that to Lady Webb and to his fellow ciphers, all gone now because of…

Well, this will be for Lady Eidis to see to. Islwyn does feel sorry for her, for everything she has been through – but it was her decision, so it is her responsibility. That is justice, and not only of the divine kind; that is mortal justice as well, simple, the basic rule. His compassion or pity cannot cloud his judgement; not when they did not completely cloud hers, even back then, when she was strong enough to be soft-hearted.

Will she be the same in a few years, when she meets the boy, he wonders. Will she be strong enough to carry that burden she so eagerly took upon her shoulders. Or will she… no, she will not let others bear the blame for her mistakes. At least he does not expect her to do so.

In a few years, when the boy grows up and finishes his formal training, Islwyn will send him to Caed Nua, to learn from a more powerful cipher. If this is but a play of the gods, or an extremely rare natural anomaly, perhaps Lady Eidis will be able to cure Adhán’s soul. And if it is not…

Either way, it will be a test. For all three of them.


End file.
